Mark of the Cat
by peterofancelstierre
Summary: Ferin returns to the Athask with her new friends. Other characters: Ferin, Imshi. (Ferin really belongs in the list.)


Disclaimer: The Old Kingdom and its characters belong to Garth Nix. I just play there.

Notes: updated chapter 1. Now complete.  
Criticism and comments welcome. This is my first ever attempt at writing fiction.

WARNING: Contains huge spoilers for Goldenhand (Abhorsen vol. 5)

Mark of the Cat  
by Peter of Add to dictionary

"Well. The new foot suits," said Ferin, admiring it with a wiggle and a pointed toe. And not before time. She had spent months in the castle and hobbling around the City on a peg leg. Sam had spent months making this excellent foot, and-she thought-much too long perfecting it to his standards. "Thank you Sam. Now it is time to use it. I can return to the Athask Tribe in victory."

"Huh?" said Sam, greatly startled. he'd been at work in his smithy, and this interruption was more surprising than most. "What? All evidence shows that you like the city. Trips to the market. Trips to the Sea. Trips exploring every alley. Even a visit to the Great Charter. You know the city better than I do."

"Well yes. And I like the Charter very well-is so much more convenient than the magic of the tribes. No messy collars. No crazy Necromancers calling the Dead to eat your flesh; your mother and Aunt-necromancers both-are quite impressively sane. It is high time the Athask enjoy the charter too. So. You and I will take it to them."

"What?" Sam was feeling a bit left behind.

"We will go to the mountains. You will make a charter stone. Then they will have their own charter marks. Their own Witch of the Cave. Really, it is inconvenient for everyone that the Kingdom has provided all their useful witches. All the recent troubles would have been so much easier if the Tribes had taken care of the Witch with No Face on our own."

"Well, I wouldn't have met you," hazarded Sam. "I would regret that greatly."

"Nonsense. You wouldn't know any better. You hardly knew better until the moment I seduced you."

Sam knew he was losing ground fast. "But I have responsibilities here. And the last time my family took a vacation, it led to disaster."

"Hardly. Chlorr caused the disaster. Your mother arrived in time. _I_ arrived in time. You simply don't want to go on an adventure."

" _You_ simply surprised me. I haven't had a moment to consider. And I would need to discuss it with my family." Sam could recognise a battle lost. And Ferin was right: it would be an adventure. Perhaps this one would be more pleasant than recent experience.

"Ha. I didn't surprise you. I ambushed you," teased Ferin. "You should know the difference. And yes, you should discuss it with your family. Perhaps they would like to go too. After all, it is traditional that families should meet prior to a marriage. You will now _consider_." With that, she swept out of the room.

Sam looked around the room. Here was the mosquito-catching frog. There were his music boxes. There was a mechanical bird that flew short distances, but could not yet compete with message hawks. There was a box of sweepings of valuable metals.

And there was his collection of Charter-marked swords, each better than the last, though none to compare with Lirael's lost Nehimma. He suspected that the Abhorsens would soon become more numerous, and even the Library of the Clayr could not supply an endless number of suitable swords. Ordinary Charter-marked weapons could not stand before the Greater Dead, though they could certainly defend against Dead Hands and the like. He was sure he could do better. Though he hardly envied the maker of a blade like Nehimma or Raminah. (He preferred not to temper a sword in his own body, his only memorial an epigram engraved on a blade.)

He realized Ferin was right: he did need an adventure. He had spent most of a full year in this room, making replacement body parts, and tinkering with small mechanical experiments. Ferin _did_ know the city better than he. But a charter stone beyond the boundaries of the Old Kingdom? For a people that, while far more civilized than the average Tribesmen, were hardly subject to the King? He doubted such was even possible, never mind whether it was a good idea.

* * *

Sam found his mother in the herb garden, harvesting lavender flowers. After 25 years of killing men-dead though many of them had been-Lirael now perefered to spend her time 'making things live', instead. And since the final Death of Chlorr, she found far more time to do it.

 _She is not going to like this_ , Sam thought. "Mother, I have been thinking. Ferin's been stuck in the city until now by her missing foot. I've been stuck making hands and feet. I need to inspect the damage to the bridge foundations, and get better estimates on the expenses for the rebuild."

"Well Sam. That is a necessary and correct activity of a Wallbuilder. You certainly don't need permission of Crown or Abhorsen to do your job. So why come to me? Somehow I expect there's another shoe-or should I say foot?-to drop."

Sam winced. His mother _wasn't_ liking this. "Ferin has invited me to visit the Athask. She says she wants to 'return in victory.' And I wish to go."

"No. Much as I like Ferin, a visit to the Athask is too far and too dangerous for the kingdom's only Wallbuilder."

"Ah, she intends to invite you as well. She is inviting the whole family-'to meet hers,' she says-as prospective in-laws, she says. And I'd hate disappoint her," said Sam.

"Then she can me ask herself. She surely knows there is no way either the King or I could leave our responsibilities for months. We tried to take a short vacation and ended up nearly missing a war. I know you shouldn't disappoint Ferin. But I can. Come. Let us speak to her."

Sam sighed. He hadn't even mentioned taking the Charter to the Athask.

Imshi, First Assistant Librarian of the Clayr, was not her usual ebullient self. She had seen visions of a frozen waterfall in her dreams four nights running, and again in the ice of the Great Stairs. The waterfall, and the mountains behind it, were no place in the Old Kingdom she was sure. And the menacing shadows around its foot were nothing she wanted to meet. After the fifth night with disturbed dreams, she took her troubles to Vancelle, Chief Librarian.

Vancelle's office in the Library always impressed: the glorious view over the glacier dominated the room. But Imshi knew that the sword in the holder by the door was one of the few remaining Great Blades left from the ancient Wallmakers. And the empty flasks on the wall were fit for no drinks: the were holders for Free Magic creatures of the worst sorts, and were present on the wall as a reminder of the real dangers and responsibilities of their order.

"The frozen waterfall I know," replied Vancelle after a long moment. "It the heart of the land of Athask, and was where Lirael's mother died. Ferin mentioned it in her message. And Ominous Shadows, you say? Who ya gonna call?"*

"That much I knew: such a foreseeing would come to _me_ only if Lirael were involved-I did not become a Librarian because of any great skill as a Seer."

"Yes. But there is more," Vancelle replied. "The frozen waterfall gave visions for Lirael's mother, Arielle, when she went to the Athask. The shadows are a sign that an Abhorsen should go. But the _waterfall_ is a symbol that a Clayr should go as well. Who, I think, is you."

"Me! Oh, I'd love to go! And see Lirael, again. But Vancelle, I'm no Ranger."

"Do you say a Librarian-a First Assistant Librarian!-is not equal to a Ranger in Charter Magic? Have you not fought Free Magic creatures here, in your own home? When Lirael's man Nick came to the Clayr, it was not the Rangers who welcomed him. It was the Library-and you in particular."

"But what would I _do_ there?"

"Imshi! Stop being a featherhead. You're a member of the Clayr. So ask them!"

"Ask them? You mean the Nine Day Watch?"

"Of course the Watch. You should have done it after the first dream. Or the second. Or the waking visions! Dithering has not worked."

* Sorry, couldn't resist.


End file.
